Not Alone
by Dancing Melon
Summary: Blaine is happy at Dalton, especially after Kurt transfers, but now he's decided that he wants his parents to accept his sexuality just as well as his friends do. Unfortunately for him, trying to gain that acceptance doesn't go how he expected it to.


**A/N**: Uh ... hi. It's been a really long time since I've posted any kind of story on this site. Honestly I've really missed writing, but I haven't had anything I desperately wanted to write about until now. To be honest, I came up with this story literally three days ago. But so far I've planned out eight chapters, not including this prologue right here, and I know mostly where I want to take this story. All good signs, right?

So this story is starting off with Blaine's transfer to Dalton, then it's going to be basically what happened to him during the _Glee_ episode "Never Been Kissed". After the last scene Blaine was in that episode, though, I am going to take over with what I need to do to make this story work how I want it to, so it'll be kinda AU but have some of the same things as the actual show.

I want to warn people right off the bat that this story is going to get dark. After this chapter, it gets happy and cute for a while. Then it gets scary, and sad, and I'm going to hate myself for causing Blaine pain (I already do ...), but I think that this is a story that should be told, because what happens is not okay. Anyway ... I'll stop and get on with warnings and disclaimers now.

**WARNING!** If you're extremely offended by bullying and foul homosexual terms and will flame me for writing about it, stop reading now. Thank you.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Glee_, Dalton Academy, Blaine Anderson, Wesley, or David. Those all belong to Mr. Ryan Murphy or some other writer for _Glee_. I also don't own Darren Criss, which makes me cry a little at night. All other characters in this chapter did come from my imagination, though.

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><p><em><strong>Not Alone<strong>_

**Prologue** - "It's because I'm gay."

_Two years prior …_

A short, curly-headed boy was frantically making his way down dark and empty hallways. The drama club meeting he was just at ran too long, right around the time that the football team was coming out of the locker room. The boy cursed under his breath, stopping at his locker and quickly shoving books into his messenger bag. Suddenly, his locker door shut, and as the boy turned around, he was met with three large teenagers in Letterman jackets.

"'Sup, _fag_," the black teenager on the right spat, pushing the dark-haired boy into the lockers. He winced, from that word or the shove he didn't know, but he kept silent.

"Hey!" The blond-haired boy on the left shouted, "I believe Corey here was talking to you!"

The football player in the middle chuckled, his green eyes dancing with a plan. "Dustin, you should know that this _fairy_ here only responds to violence." He made eye contact with the shortest boy's hazel eyes, which were filled with rage.

Corey and Dustin laughed. "Good thing we know just how to take care of that, huh Anderson?" Dustin addressed the boy by his last name, before throwing a punch right into his gut. The boy sunk to the ground with the wind knocked out of him. The leader's two sidekicks then picked up the small teen, carrying him outside.

"Can't be leaving a pool of blood in the middle of the hallway … we might get caught that way," the other teen explained to the one being carried. His eyes widened in fear, dreading what was coming next.

"Kevin, please don't, I didn't do anything wrong!" The boy pleaded, right before he was dropped onto the rough asphalt behind the school. He groaned in pain, feeling the ground digging into his palms. He knew that it was only the beginning, though.

"Didn't do anything wrong?" Kevin yelled, "You're a fucking _faggot_, that's what the hell you did wrong!" He pulled the boy off of the ground by his shirt collar and hit him square in the face. "Being a _queer_ is wrong! How many times will we have to kick your ass to get that through your sick mind?"

Dustin and Corey joined in the attack after Kevin's words, the three of them taking turns swinging punches and kicks at the younger boy, whose attempts to defend himself were failing. He tried begging them to stop, but his words went ignored. He heard the sickening sound of skin hitting skin over and over again, feeling bruises being formed all over his body.

The jocks simply laughed at his misery, clearly enjoying themselves. They watched at the boy crumpled at their feet, defeated and fighting back tears. Kevin gave him one last kick to the shoulder, meeting the poor boy's watery gaze.

"You better not tell anyone about this _homo_, otherwise you'll _really_ regret it." He motioned to his lackeys to follow him, leaving the boy alone in the driveway behind their high school.

Waiting until he was sure that his tormenters were gone, the boy stood up, flinching in pain as he did so. He picked up his messenger bag off of the ground and began to slowly walk home. What was normally a ten minute walk took nearly half an hour, from his injuries and from hurtful homosexual insults circling his mind. He managed to get himself to his upper middle class home, opening the front door and stepping inside, worrying about his parents' reaction.

"Blaine, it's about time you got home! Your father and I were expecting you home at four o'clock sharp, and now it's almost five-thirty –" His mother paused, gasping at the distraught sight of her only son. "Blaine, what … what happened to you? Who did this to you?" she asked desperately, leading Blaine to a chair and sitting him down. "John! _John_! Get in here!"

"What is it Katie? I may have the day off today but I still have to prepare for my case–" John Anderson dropped the manilla folder he was holding at the sight of Blaine's bruised face and dirty, ripped clothing. "Blaine? What the hell happened?"

Blaine took a deep breath, looking down at his scrapped hands that he was nervously rubbing together. It was now or never. "Drama club ran later today, and as I was leaving these three football players came after me, and they grabbed me and … they beat me up," he finished softly, refusing to look at his parents.

His dad was furious, shouting something about "suing that damn school" and "dealing with those boys himself", but he was quiet when his wife asked Blaine a simple but loaded question.

"Why did they do that to you, Blaine?" she asked softly.

Blaine finally looked up, glancing at his mother. She had the same black, curly hair that he did. Then he looked at his father, his own eyes staring back at him. He met his mother's honey-colored eyes, and whispered, "It's because I'm gay."

Blaine's mom froze, breaking her connection with Blaine and watching her husband. His father's face appeared calm but his green-brown eyes were livid. He closed them and pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply as if to keep his cool.

"Mom, Dad ..." Blaine began again, "I … I want to transfer to Dad's Alma mater. I want to go to Dalton. I've had enough at that school, and I was doing some research and Dalton has a –"

"Fine," his father replied. "I'll fill out and application tonight and demand that your school transfers your transcript to Dalton first thing in the morning, while we drive you out there."

Blaine looked shocked. "You mean … that's it? I can go just like that?"

"Yes. Now go pack," he replied calmly, looking anywhere but at his son. Blaine looked a bit puzzled, but obeyed his father and hobbled upstairs to pack his bags.

His room was hardly decorated; just a Harry Potter poster on the wall beside his bed, his acoustic guitar sitting in the corner, and sheets of music tossed around. Blaine went straight to his closest and pulled down his suitcase, groaning in pain as his shoulder protested the movement. Despite that, Blaine began pulling clothes from his closet and from his dresser and packing his suitcase until it was full. Then he emptied his messenger bag and began to pick up the scattered sheets of music. Some were just music notes, some had lyrics, some were simply blank pages. He put them all in a plain blue folder and put that in his bag, along with his laptop, iPod, and chargers for those and his cell phone.

Blaine finished packing his toiletries and a few sentimental items, and once everything was packed and placed by his bedroom door, it was after nine o'clock. His parents had never called him down for dinner, and it had been strangely quiet. He didn't want to dwell on that, though; his body was aching from his attack earlier, and he had been ignoring the pain for a while.

He tried to stifle a yawn, but after failing, Blaine decided that he would go to bed for the night. Maybe after a good night's sleep, the fact that he was moving into Dalton Academy in the morning would finally feel real to him.

The next morning, Blaine's cell phone alarm went off at it's usually time, six o'clock, and he made the motion to get up and shower for school. His body protested, being somehow more sore than yesterday, but he managed. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before opening them, his suitcase by the door being the first thing his eyes saw. That reminded Blaine that he was going to Dalton Academy this morning instead of his old high school, which put a bright smile on the young teen's face.

He showered and dressed as quickly as he could, refusing to look at his reflection in the mirror. Blaine knew that he would be covered in bruises, but he did not want to see them. He caught a glimpse at his face though; he somehow scrapped by with only one black eye and a bruise on his cheek. Considering how many times he was hit, that was lucky.

Blaine felt a chill go down his spine just thinking about what had happened to him yesterday. But he was getting out of that school. He was getting away from Kevin and Corey and Dustin; the boys who were his best friends until he came out in eighth grade, and the boys who became his biggest bullies. He was getting away from the administration and teachers that ignored his pleas for help. He was getting away from the people who pretended to accept him but still talked about him behind his back.

But he was also getting away from his parents, the two people who had always been there for him. Now they weren't hesitant to send him away, even if it was better for him.

"Blaine! Are you ready to leave?"

His dad's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Blaine put his messenger bag on his not-sore shoulder and grabbed his suitcase and guitar case. "I'm coming, Dad!" he replied, rolling his suitcase out of his room. He struggled a bit dragging it down the stairs, and his parents were nowhere to be found. Blaine was puzzled, as he had just heard his dad's voice, but forced himself to bring his bag the rest of the way down the stairs.

The sound of a car horn blasted through the house and Blaine jumped. So _that's_ where his parents were. The way they were acting seemed like they were trying to get rid of him. That thought was insane though; Blaine knew his parents loved him (they were his parents!), and they just wanted to make sure that he was safe.

Blaine took one last look at his extensive Westerville home. The sad thing about having to dorm at Dalton was that he wouldn't be able to come home very much anymore. He was leaving the house he grew up in, and even though it wasn't forever, it was for a while. Until Thanksgiving break, at least. He would be away from his parents and his lifestyle for a whole month. Blaine was more excited than sad though. He turned around, opened the door, and walked out into the cool October morning, locking the door behind him.

His mother and father were waiting in their silver BMW, and didn't even seem to notice when Blaine loaded his things and himself into the backseat. His mom mumbled good morning to him and his dad stayed silent. He pulled out of the driveway and turned the twenty minute drive to Dalton Academy into a ten minute one.

Dalton looked even more spectacular in person than in the pictures on its website. The main building somewhat resembled a castle, made of brick and having two towers on its ends, and vines tracing down the walls. The roof was slightly domed, showing a large window on top of the building. There were a few other similar buildings on either side of the main one, making a half-circle. All kinds of trees and bushes and flowers framed the pathways and the buildings, making for a very beautiful looking campus. Blaine was in awe, especially since he would be _going_ to this school.

Blaine's father was the first one out of the car, with his mom and Blaine following closely behind. There were several students wearing navy blue blazers and gray pants walking into the largest building as well, carrying books, backpacks, and talking animatedly with each other. But what shocked Blaine the most is that they were talking with everyone, not just with their clique. It didn't even seem like cliques existed.

Two students, however, weren't carrying any school supplies. The boys were about the same height and build, one an Asian teenager with coiffed dark hair, and the other and African-American with a big smile. They were both walking in Blaine's direction, chatting and laughing with each other. Blaine flinched when they reached him, out of pure instinct, but relaxed once he remembered that he wasn't at his old school anymore.

"Hi, I'm Wes," said the first one, extending his hand for a handshake, "And this is David." He gestured to his left as Blaine shook his hand, and then David's. Blaine's parents stopped to wait for their distracted son, his father looking just a bit irritated.

"You must be Blaine," David remarked as Blaine dropped his hand.

"Yeah … how did you know that?" he asked. How fast did news of new students travel around this school?

David just smiled. "We found out this morning from the headmaster. He wanted me and Wes here to show you to our dorm room and give you a tour of the school. He did want us to wait until after your parents confirmed your transfer though …"

Wes rolled his eyes. "Sorry Mr. and Mrs. Anderson … David here gets a little impatient when something exciting like this happens."

David scowled, playfully glaring at Wes. Blaine chuckled nervously, looking over at his father. "It's quite alright, but I would like to get Blaine registered now, if you could please let us move along." He sounded somewhat mad, but his words were pleasant.

"Of course sir. Here Blaine, let us take your luggage to the dorm for you. We'll be back to get you by the time you guys are done with Headmaster Douglas," Wes replied. Blaine nodded, handing him his guitar case while David grabbed his suitcase.

"See you soon Blaine!" David exclaimed as they walked off.

Blaine's dad let out a frustrated sigh, and the Anderson family walked into the main doors of Dalton Academy. The inside of the school was almost as impressive as the outside, with high ceilings, sunlight pouring through multiple windows, and a large spiral staircase sitting just behind a receptionist desk.

A blonde woman in her forties was sitting at the desk, typing away on her computer. She looked up when she heard footsteps, and smiled brightly at Blaine and his parents. "Good morning," she greeted, "You must be John Anderson, with your son Blaine?"

"That's right," he responded, "We're meeting with Headmaster Douglas about his transfer, correct?"

"Yes sir! I'll let him know that you're here!" She picked up the phone and dialed a few numbers. Blaine tuned out the conversation she was having with the headmaster and with his father to look around at his new school.

To the left of the receptionist was a long hallway with several doors, probably classrooms. To the right was an open doorway leading to what looked like a fancy restaurant; definitely the cafeteria. Behind the desk was very open. The staircase was on the left, and a door was located at least twenty feet from the receptionist's chair. Another hallway was on the far right, but Blaine couldn't get a good look because his mother took his arm and led him to a chair on the opposite side.

There were a few chairs and end tables near the main entrance, much like a doctor's waiting room without the aquarium. Blaine's mother and father were talking quietly to each other, while Blaine continued to check out his surroundings. From what he could see sitting down, it looked like there were at least two more floors above him. He was already getting nervous about finding his way around this place to get to class.

"Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine snapped back into reality, looking in the direction where his name was called. There stood an older man, with salt and pepper hair and kind blue eyes. He was dressed nicely in a black suit with a red tie, the Dalton Academy crest pinned to his blazer. Blaine stood up as the man walked over, immediately moving to shake his hand. "Headmaster Douglas?" he asked. The man nodded, smiling as he shook Blaine's hand.

"It's very nice to meet you, Blaine. You look so much like your father when he was your age," he remarked, "Except for the hair and bruises, of course," Headmaster Douglas added with a chuckle. "You must have wanted to transfer for the zero-tolerance harassment policy, am I right?" Blaine nodded sheepishly, blushing and looking down. "You and your parents can step into my office now," he continued, "We just need to go over a few things before Wesley and David come back to take you on your tour."

The Andersons followed the headmaster into the door behind the receptionist's desk. His office was filled with wooden bookcases and large windows behind a neatly kept desk. There were a few pictures on the headmaster's desk, one of a younger Headmaster Douglas and a young girl with his eyes, one of the same girl aged a few years, and one of another man with the girl; both of them smiling at each other instead of the camera. Blaine's eyes widened the slightest bit at that last picture. Did that mean that his headmaster was –

"Well John, I just received Blaine's transcript this morning, and his grades are quite impressive. If it's alright with Blaine I would like to place him in a few of our more advanced classes, particularly English and Latin?" He directed his question more towards Blaine than his father, and Blaine nodded his response.

"Of course, Headmaster," John replied. "And how much is his tuition this semester?" He reached for his checkbook out of his suit jacket, waiting for an answer.

Headmaster Douglas smiled. "It's so nice to have parents who understand our payment method here. Normally it's 5,000 dollars a semester, but since Blaine is only going to be here for about half of that, it's 3,000."

Blaine was shocked at the price, but he was more surprised when his father simply nodded and wrote out the check. His dad must have really wanted Blaine to be safe. He may work as a prosecuting attorney, but 3,000 dollars was still a lot of money. 10,000 a school year seemed insane, but his father must have been aware of this when he agreed to send Blaine to Dalton.

Headmaster Douglas accepted the check with a smile, placing it on the center of his desk. He picked up the small stack of papers and handed Blaine the majority of them.

"That is your student handbook and housing assignment. I'll have Miss Jackson out there get you your schedule later today once we switch a few of your courses. The handbook goes over our rules and policies for classes as well as the dormitories. Most of it is self-explanatory, but I expect that you'll read it anyway, Blaine," the headmaster hinted with a wink. "On the single sheet is your dorm room number and your roommates, Wesley and David, who you've already met. It also has a map of your dormitory. You'll receive a map of the rest of the school when you pick up your schedule later today. Also, you won't be required to attend classes until the day after tomorrow, just to give you time to settle in. Do you have any questions?" He addressed this to Blaine as well as his parents, making eye contact with all three of them.

"No sir," Blaine replied, glancing down at his handbook and dorm assignment. His parents shook their heads as well.

"Is that all you'll be needing from us, headmaster?" Blaine's father asked, referring to himself and his wife.

"Yes, John. I'll step out to give you a few moments to say your goodbyes. Welcome to Dalton, Blaine. You'll fit in well here." Headmaster Douglas gave Blaine a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaving his office, shutting the door behind him.

Blaine let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and looked at his parents. His father looked almost relieved, while his mother had tears forming in her eyes. She pulled Blaine into a hug and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "We'll see you soon sweetheart. I love you."

He almost cried himself as he hugged his mother back. "I love you too, Mom." She pulled away and gave him a watery smile, glancing to her husband. His father coughed awkwardly before placing a hand on Blaine's shoulder.

"Call us and let us know if you need anything, Blaine. But I take it you'll be alright here?" Blaine nodded in response, wiping the tears from his eyes before they could fall. "Good luck."

With that, John and Katie Anderson walked out of the headmaster's office. Blaine hadn't expected much of a goodbye from his father, as he was never one to show his emotions, but he did feel disappointed with their exchange. Nonetheless, his transfer was official now. He grasped his papers tightly in hand and walked out of the office. His parents were gone, but Wes and David were standing there waiting for him.

"Are you ready for your tour, Blaine?" Wes asked, giving him a smile.

"Yeah, ready as I'll ever be." Blaine smiled back at him. If everyone was as nice to him as Wes and David were so far, things were going to go much better at Dalton than he ever expected. There was a big difference between not being harassed and being treated kindly.

Wes started to lead him to the first hallway Blaine had noticed when David motioned at him to wait a second. "Blaine, if you don't mind me asking … what happened to your face?"

Blaine was taken a bit aback from his blunt question, and Wes smacked David over the back of the head, getting a whine of pain in response. "You can't just throw out questions like that David!"

"No, it's okay," Blaine interrupted. He might as well start telling people right away, since no one here could beat him up. "I got ambushed by a couple of bullies yesterday at my old school. They kicked my ass because I'm gay. Simple as that."

Wes and David both looked sympathetic. "That's rough, man," David replied. "We know some other guys who had to transfer for similar reasons, and one of them wasn't even gay!"

The other boy gave him a look, before meeting Blaine's worried eyes. "No one here cares if you're gay or straight or anything else for that matter. Dalton's a place where you can feel comfortable and safe just being yourself. Nobody's even going to bat an eye if you mention that you like boys –"

"Except for other gay boys ..." David mumbled, causing Blaine to chuckle while Wes gave him a death glare.

"My point is," Wes continued, "You don't have to worry about getting bashed up like that again while you're here."

Blaine smiled, tears threatening to fall. He's never felt more accepted than in that moment. "Thanks," he said softly. Wes and David both smiled.

"Now then, let's show you around this massive school!" David exclaimed, grabbing Blaine's jacket sleeve and dragging him off. "I saw that you brought your guitar with you. Does that mean you can sing too? 'Cause me and Wes are both in the Warblers which is Dalton's glee club and if you've got pipes we'll take whatever we can get to make us better for sectionals this year. It's our first time competing in years …"

Blaine was barely listening anymore as David rambled away about the Warblers or whatever and as Wes was trying to shut him up so he could explain where they were. Headmaster Douglas was right; Blaine Anderson was going to fit in well at Dalton Academy.

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><p><strong>AN**: So ... did you like? I really hope so ... I'm super excited about this story. I love writing Blaine and I'm pumped about the next chapter because SPOILERS: I get to introduce Kurt. Insert gay love affair of the century.

Look out for the next chapter. I can't say when right now, but check my author's page every once in a while ... I'll attempt to use that to keep you up to date on my writing progress.


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